


Confidential

by Aly208



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Intersex Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Omega Merlin (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), omega males and alpha females are intersex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22541632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly208/pseuds/Aly208
Summary: For years, Merlin kept his omega identity under wraps, posing instead as a beta. An encounter with bandits reveals his secret to Arthur in the worst way possible.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 1537





	Confidential

**Author's Note:**

> So there are just a few things I want to clear up before this fic starts. It's set in ABO, but done differently than other typical ABO universes (omega males like Merlin are intersex, for instance). There is also a graphic sexual assault scene (not between Merlin and Arthur), as well as mentioned past sexual assaults. If you are bothered by any of these topics, please click away. But if not, happy reading!
> 
> \--
> 
> me: *watches Merlin for the first time seven years after the show ends*
> 
> me: anyway...time to write some fanfic
> 
> \--

“Pick up the pace, Merlin,” Arthur snaps from atop his horse. “The faster we finish this, the sooner we get to return to Camelot.”

Merlin sighs and pushes his horse onward. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” he asks, following Arthur through the thick trees and bushes of the forest. 

“Because I need to prove myself as an alpha. Something _you_ wouldn’t understand,” says Arthur in such a prattish way that Merlin rolls his eyes. “I can’t always have the knights or guards accompanying me. I want to prove that I can hunt on my own.”

Merlin’s brow furrows. “You’re the best fighter in Camelot. Surely no one thinks you can’t hunt on your own?” 

Arthur makes a derisive sound. “You would be surprised,” he mutters lowly.

Merlin sighs. All day, Arthur’s been more irritable than usual, snapping at him to do one order immediately after another and insulting him. And then out of the blue, he had decided to go on a hunting trip with just the two of them. Merlin suspects that Uther had said something to rile Arthur up -- maybe something about his alpha manliness -- but the prince refuses to elaborate on the cause for his mood.

So now Merlin is stuck on this days-long hunting expedition with a surly royal prat. Great.

For a few minutes, Merlin enjoys the peace and quiet until Arthur turns his head around, looking like he’s about to pick a fight. He glances at Merlin’s shoulder. “Why are you carrying that ragged bag around?” he scoffs.

Merlin’s hand clutches at the bag attached to his left side. “Oh. Gaius wants me to pick some herbs for him while we’re in the forest,” he lies.

“Well, it looks awful. Invest in a new one,” snaps Arthur and then turns back around, letting go of the topic.

Merlin nearly sighs in relief. He hates having to lie, but it’s better this way. Arthur doesn’t need to know about the heat suppressant in his bag or the truth about his secondary gender. To Arthur, Merlin is not an omega man with heats and a womb; he’s just an ordinary beta man, and that’s how he intends to keep it.

Keeping his omega identity hidden has left Merlin with the best treatment he’s ever had in his life. Men no longer harass him, women no longer gossip about him, and society no longer ostracizes him. If his secret is revealed, Merlin will not only lose all the respect he’s gained, but also certainly his manservant position. For fear of bastard children, Uther would never knowingly allow an omega to be Arthur’s manservant. And if Uther ever finds out about his secondary gender, he'll certainly banish Merlin from the kingdom for his deceit.

Merlin cringes at that thought. He can't risk banishment when he has to protect Arthur. He wishes he didn't have to carry his suppressants with him, since they might arouse suspicion, but Gaius had insisted. This hunting trip could last a few days, and Merlin is supposed to take his suppressants every day. He could probably go a day or two without them, but that’s stretching it. Without his medication, his omega scent would grow stronger and make it obvious what his gender really is. And Arthur does not need to find out about that. He would be furious at Merlin for lying about it this whole time.

A rustling sound from the bushes startles Merlin out of his thoughts. “Did you hear that?” he whispers to Arthur, eyes darting nervously around the woods surrounding them.

Arthur snorts. “Don’t be such an omega, Merlin,” he snipes, not noticing the way Merlin flinches at his words. “It’s probably just a rabbit scurrying around.” 

Merlin frowns. Again, he hears the sound. “Arthur--”

“Merlin. Shut--”

That’s all that’s said before eight bandits rush out at them from behind the trees and bushes. Arthur leaps off his horse, pulling out a sword from his scabbard, and starts fighting the closest bandit. Merlin watches from the side as Arthur stabs one and then another. As he fights his third opponent, he doesn’t notice another bandit creeping up on him from behind. Merlin whispers a spell under his breath and a large branch hits the bandit on the head, knocking him out cold.

Merlin is so focused on keeping track of Arthur that he fails to notice the bandit behind him until it’s too late. In the blink of an eye, an arm grabs Merlin around the waist. He flails around wildly, struggling, but the man’s tight grip doesn’t loosen. Merlin is pulled backwards, falling back into the bandit’s chest, his arms bound behind him. Something metallic glints in front of him, and he realizes a sword is at his throat. He freezes. 

“Drop the sword or I’ll kill him!” the bandit threatens. 

Arthur turns, his blue eyes widening as he meets Merlin’s gaze. 

“Arthur, don’t--don’t do it,” Merlin manages to say before the bandit yells at him to shut up and presses the cold blade even closer to his throat. Using his eyes, Merlin tries to plead with Arthur silently, tries to tell him to keep fighting so that he doesn’t end up at the mercy of these bandits. For a moment, Arthur hesitates. But then he drops his sword.

Immediately, two bandits grab Arthur by the arms, holding him in place. One of them brings Arthur to his knees, while the other gives his sword to another large bandit with dark hair and eyes. Merlin can already see the arrogance projecting off of the man judging from his sneer and stance alone, looking every bit the leader of such a sleazy group.

“A fine sword. We’ll charge an arm and a leg for it,” the leader comments, gazing at the sword’s craftsmanship. He ignores the other bandits’ laughter at his poor joke, instead turning his stare towards Merlin. He walks over, leaning in close, and grabs the bag hanging off Merlin’s shoulder, slicing the strap off with the sword. But not before the man _sniffs_ him, a strangely thoughtful expression crossing his face. Merlin curls his lip in disgust.

“Now let’s see what we’ve got in here,” the leader says, putting the sword away in his scabbard and opening the flap of the bag. He rummages around for a moment before pulling out something that makes Merlin’s heart stop. “What’s this?” he asks, holding the vial of heat suppressant and looking pointedly at Merlin.

“I-It’s some kind of draught. I don’t know what it is. I’m just delivering it to someone.” The lie slips easily through Merlin’s mouth. 

The leader hums and opens the vial. He smells it and then whips his head back up to stare at Merlin again, his eyes gleaming in a way that makes Merlin’s stomach drop.

“I know this smell anywhere. It’s a heat suppressant,” he says.

“Again, I’m not sure what it is. I’m only delivering it,” Merlin says firmly despite his pounding heart. 

“Only delivering it?” echoes the leader, taking a step forward and leaning in so unnervingly close to Merlin’s face that he can smell his repulsive breath and suffocating alpha scent. “Or perhaps _you’re_ the one using it?” 

“What are you implying?” Arthur’s voice carries over sharply. The leader turns to look at him instead, and Merlin breathes a gulp of fresh, nonstinking air. “That he’s an omega? You must be delusional. Merlin is clearly a beta.”

The leader turns back to Merlin, his brown eyes staring intensely into Merlin’s own blue ones. Merlin can only hope that the fear and anxiety he feels coursing through him are not obvious in his expression. The leader then takes a step back, looking him up and down.

“Only one way to prove it,” he says, his eyes containing a malicious gleam. “Aldwyn, remove your sword.” 

At once, the sword leaves his throat. Merlin sighs in relief, but the man still holds his arms behind him in a vice-like grip. 

The leader takes out Arthur’s stolen sword and places the point on Merlin’s neckerchief. Merlin squirms, but the pressure of the blade is gentle, as if the bandit is barely pressing on it. And then the sword glides down, tearing his tunic open. 

“What are you doing?” gasps Merlin. He feels the sharp sting of the blade nicking him in a few places, but the bleeding is small.

Having finished tearing Merlin’s shirt and jacket, the leader smirks but says nothing. And then he drops the sword to Merlin’s trousers.

Merlin jolts, suddenly realizing what this sick man is planning on doing. 

“Stop!” he yells, the panic building inside him as he tries to escape the bandit’s hold. “Don’t do this. You came here to rob us, which you’ve already done. If you leave us now, we won’t report you. I promise. Please stop...”

But the man continues tearing down Merlin’s trousers. He begins with the left leg, and the ripping sound is terrible to Merlin’s ears. He grits his teeth and thinks about the fact that this will be the moment Arthur learns he’s an omega: being stripped naked against his will in front of a bunch of leering men. 

Merlin’s magic pushes forcefully within him, wanting to protect himself, but he forces it back down. His omega secret will be betrayal for Arthur enough; Merlin can’t reveal his two most well-guarded secrets to him all in one day. Arthur would never forgive him. Begging the tears in his eyes not to well over, Merlin turns his head away so he doesn’t have to see the disgust he knows will soon be on Arthur’s face.

“Enough!” Arthur yells when the leader starts on Merlin’s right leg. By instinct, Merlin momentarily looks up to see Arthur’s flushed face, a muscle in his jaw jumping and his blue eyes boiling with fury. Merlin has never seen him more enraged. “If you let us go, I will go to the castle and return with riches for all of you. Whatever you want, you can have. You have my word. Just, let him go.” 

The leader pauses. “And how do I know you won’t come back with all of Camelot’s knights, ready to execute us?” he asks sharply.

“I’m a man of my word,” says Arthur, as firm as ever.

For a few moments, the leader seems to ponder over his words. “With noble men like you, your words mean nothing when you can go back on them so easily,” he says, then grabs Merlin by the chin, forcing him to look up. Merlin sees the lust swimming in his eyes, smells the strong scent of his arousal, and shivers. “And seeing an omega male like this is too good of an opportunity to waste.”

The leader drops Merlin’s chin and resumes tearing his clothes. Arthur keeps yelling and Merlin can hear him thrash wildly within the grip of the two bandits holding him, the scent of furious alpha pheromones suffocating the air around them.

Merlin tries to remain stony-faced, even though Arthur’s scent only further distresses him. The desperation in it makes Merlin want to rush over and protect him, and he’s frustrated that he can’t. He considers saying something to console Arthur, but the shame he feels inside prevents him from looking at the man, let alone speaking to him.

By the end, Merlin’s clothes are all in tatters and his trousers are completely torn off him. He clenches his legs together as tightly as he can in a poor attempt at modesty, even though he knows it’s no use. With his small cock and lack of testicles, it’s obvious that he’s an omega male even without seeing his cunt. But he has to do _something_. 

The leader shakes his head. “That won’t do, _Merlin_ , is it? Such a pretty name for a pretty omega.” He comes closer to Merlin and forces a knee in between his legs, spreading them open. Merlin flinches, his legs shaking as he watches the man bend down to examine between them. 

“Just as I thought,” the man says proudly, standing back up. “An omegan cunt.”

Merlin swallows and desperately averts his eyes away from Arthur. But the leader sees this and again grabs Merlin by the chin, forcing him to look at Arthur, who stops struggling and stares at him. His eyes flash between so many emotions that it’s impossible for Merlin to decipher all of them. A tear rolls down Merlin’s cheek and he closes his eyes, unable to bear the look of hurt on Arthur’s face.

“You tried to keep this a secret from him, hmm?” says the leader, smirking. Merlin is overcome with hatred for the man and his cruel words and his unusually keen perception. “Why? Afraid the big, bad alpha would ravish you? Well darling, don’t worry. I’ll keep him away from you. But maybe we should let him know what he’ll be missing out on. Aldwyn, turn him around.”

Obediently, Aldwyn turns Merlin around so that he’s facing away from the group. He lets go of his wrists, but before Merlin can react, a hard force is brought to his shins and he falls to his knees, his arms catching him before his face can meet the ground. He tries to scramble to his feet, but Aldwyn slams his foot on top of Merlin’s back, forcing him down. 

The leader whistles. “Isn’t he beautiful?” he says, crouching down next to Merlin. He looks back to the group. “Don’t look away now! It’s just getting good. Keep his eyes open.”

Merlin sucks in a deep breath as the leader gropes at his bottom and slaps it hard. He prays that Arthur somehow manages to keep his eyes closed, so he doesn’t have to see this humiliating display.

“A nice arse but no tits. I thought those suppressants were supposed to make you omega whores bigger up there,” the leader chuckles darkly. He leans in closely to Merlin’s face. “Your _friend_ over there looks all torn up. Your lie must’ve hurt him. Or maybe he’s upset that he didn’t get the chance to rut inside you first. Well, we’ll give your alpha toy a good show, won’t we?”

Merlin feels the anger rise inside him and before he can even think about it, he spits in the leader’s face. “You’re a sick man,” he hurls furiously. 

The leader recoils and wipes off the spit with his hand. Scowling, he slaps Merlin across the face. 

“Little slut,” the man bites back. “You’ll wish you haven’t done that.”

The leader moves back, away from Merlin’s line of vision. And then Merlin tenses, feeling a touch on his cunt. Something -- a finger, he guesses -- rubs against him, probing gently, before entering him. Merlin whimpers at the unexpected intrusion. 

“How wet you are already. You must really want my cock,” the leader coos condescendingly. He pauses for a moment and Merlin feels a sudden touch on his throat. “Mmm. What if I put a claim right...there?” 

Merlin flinches. If it weren’t for his heat suppressants blocking his scent, he knows he would be projecting terrified, distressed omega pheromones right now. He can’t let this pervert claim him. This is already beyond humiliating, bent over like this on the ground as a sadistic man molests him and Arthur watches. The thought of becoming this man’s sick parody of a mate nauseates him.

A sudden thought strikes him. He realizes that he’s facing away from the group. If he uses his magic now, Arthur won’t be able to see Merlin’s eyes turn gold. 

Merlin cranes his head upward and to the side, catching a glimpse of the branches surrounding him. He can’t quite get a good look, but he can see one of the bandits holding Arthur down in his peripheral and notices a large branch right above him. Merlin eyes the branch and lets his magic do its work. It cracks satisfyingly and lands on the bandit, knocking him to the ground. By the accompanying sounds of violence and groans of pain, Merlin knows that Arthur is using that distraction to his advantage. 

The leader removes himself from Merlin and hastily begins to stand, with Aldwyn also heading toward Arthur. But Merlin uses his magic again to trip Aldwyn with a tree root, and the man impales himself on his own sword. 

Merlin stands up just in time to see Arthur grab an unconscious bandit’s sword and run it through the leader. He takes the sword out and runs it through the man again. And again and again. Until the dead man collapses to the ground, a pool of blood surrounding him.

Arthur pants, dropping the sword to the ground and running a shaky hand through his hair. He turns to Merlin, and the two lock eyes for a moment before he runs over, taking off his cloak and draping it around Merlin’s shoulders wordlessly.

The silence is deafening. It tells Merlin exactly how betrayed Arthur must feel, how unforgiving he will be of his lies. The worst part is that Merlin brought this situation on himself.

“I-I’m sorry,” Merlin murmurs softly. Those words cause something in him to snap, and to his horror, he breaks down into tears.

Something seems to crack in Arthur’s face, and a vulnerable expression that Merlin has never seen before takes over. For a moment, Merlin thinks he must be hallucinating because he sees Arthur’s eyes well up, but when he blinks, they’re still full of tears.

“Don’t you dare, Merlin. This is not your fault,” Arthur says fiercely, his cheeks and eyes both red. “I should be the one apologizing. I let them hurt you. I’ve never felt so-- I just wanted to go up to that man and kill him a hundred times over and I couldn’t…All I could do was watch, like a coward.”

Merlin sniffles and wipes at his own tears. “No, Arthur, don’t blame yourself. It’s my fault. I lied to you about my gender. And I shouldn’t have brought that stupid suppressant. I really am such an idiot.” 

“You may be an idiot, but there was no way to know what was going to happen,” says Arthur gently. “And even if I knew you were an...omega, I don't believe anything would have changed. I still wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

Merlin hears the hurt in Arthur’s voice. The unsaid question of _why didn’t you tell me_? hangs in the air.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he repeats. “I didn’t want you to find out like that. I just--it was--”

Arthur holds a hand up. “Let’s discuss that later. We need to get back to Camelot so Gaius can treat you.”

“No!” Merlin blurts out in a panic. The thought of going back to Camelot steals the air from his lungs. “I don’t want Gaius to treat me.”

“Merlin, you’re injured.”

Merlin looks down at himself, seeing the dried blood on his torso and legs, the bruises on his knees, and the redness of his wrists. He knows he’ll be sore tomorrow, but now he can barely even feel the pain. 

“This is all minor,” says Merlin. And then he looks at Arthur, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please don’t tell Gaius what happened. I don’t want to worry him. I know he’ll blame himself for giving me the draught and I can’t do that to him. Please, Arthur.”

Arthur’s face softens. “I won’t tell him. But you still need to be treated.”

Merlin releases a breath he doesn’t know he was holding in, but that doesn’t stop the tears from flowing. In fact, they only seem to increase as the seconds go by. He stops trying to wipe them away, knowing it's fruitless.

“I’m just so sorry,” Merlin chokes out. He latches onto Arthur’s shoulders before he can stop himself, burying his face into Arthur’s neck as he sobs. Arthur’s arms envelop around him tightly, and Merlin feels a safety and warmth like no other he’s felt before. The thought of Arthur banishing him because of all his secrets, because of his magic, makes Merlin cling to him desperately, never wanting to let go.

The two embrace for a long time. When he runs out of tears to cry, Merlin reluctantly lets go of Arthur, and they collect their spooked horses, riding back to Camelot in silence.

\--

When they make it back, the dread in Merlin's stomach only grows. He had felt on edge the whole trip back, flinching at any noise he heard, his eyes darting back and forth from tree to bush, trying to catch if someone would burst out and attack them again. And when they had finally left the forest, Merlin felt no sense of relief. Even in the open fields, Merlin had felt like they were about to be ambushed at any moment. 

Now, as they approach Camelot, Merlin's heart pounds and he grips the cloak around him so tightly his knuckles turn white. He prays that no one can tell he's naked underneath. When they reach the castle, he leaps off his horse and starts running. 

"Merlin!" Arthur calls, but Merlin doesn't stop. He runs and runs until he's at Gaius's chambers. There, he finally slows down and opens the door, panting. 

Gaius is not there, and Merlin is beyond thankful for his absence. He quickly fills the tub with bathwater, warming it with his magic, and scrubs himself until his skin is raw. He watches the water turn red and he's overcome with disgust towards himself. 

After his bath, Merlin changes into a new set of clothes and stares at Arthur's cloak, which he had thrown on the floor in his haste to bathe. He picks it up and brings it to his nose. It smells so safe and familiar, full of Arthur’s heady alpha scent, that Merlin puts it back on, hugging it close to his body. He lays down on his bed, rubbing the cloak between his fingers, and cries himself to sleep. 

\--

Merlin wakes after a few hours. For a few minutes, he continues to laze about, full of blissful peace, until the memories of the day hit him. He blinks back his tears -- he’s so sick of crying -- and stands up and goes downstairs, hoping he'll be able to distract himself.

This time, Gaius is downstairs, reading a book at the table. When he sees Merlin, he stands up, looking his apprentice over and clearly searching for any sign of injury. 

"Merlin, are you all right?" he asks, concern filling his voice. "Arthur told me that the two of you were attacked by bandits."

Merlin stiffens. Did Arthur tell Gaius what happened? He said he wouldn’t, but maybe he changed his mind in the end. He probably realized there was no reason to keep his word to a lying servant.

“I'm fine, Gaius. I just have some bruises. It's nothing.”

"Are you sure? Arthur was quite insistent that you were injured. Perhaps I should do a check-up--"

"No!" Merlin bursts out before he can stop himself and chastises himself internally. "I mean, there's no need. I'm fine, really."

Gaius stares at him suspiciously. Merlin's afraid he's not going to let go of the topic, but then Gaius's eyes look over at something on his shoulder and he instead says, "Is that Arthur's cloak you're wearing?"

Merlin looks down and realizes he completely forgot about that. "Um, yes. He gave it to me because I was cold. Said that he wanted to shut my whining up. I guess I was so tired when we came back I forgot I was wearing it and went right to sleep."

Gaius quirks an eyebrow. For a few moments, he stays silent and Merlin can feel his anxiety building. He's never been good at lying to Gaius and the man has probably figured everything out already--

"Well, don't forget to return it to him," says Gaius, sitting back down and returning to his book. "I'm not sure he'd be too happy about you keeping it."

Merlin blinks, stunned at the response. He almost breathes a sigh of relief but instead plasters on a fake smile. "When have I ever forgotten anything?" he asks cheekily. 

Gaius sends him a pointed look. "How about the leech tank I asked you to clean three days ago?" 

Merlin grimaces. "Do I really have to--"

"Yes."

He groans.

\--

Secretly, Merlin’s grateful for cleaning the leech tank. Yes, it's a disgusting job and he hates when the leeches stick to him. But at least it gives him something to do other than think about what happened. 

He runs errands for Gaius all day, keeping himself occupied, and doesn't go to see Arthur. Merlin feels a little stung that Arthur doesn't bother to seek him out, but he's also relieved. He doesn't even know where to begin with him. How should he act, what should he say? He knows he has to return to his normal duties tomorrow, but he dreads the thought of it. Dreads what Arthur will say to him.

It is when Merlin is heading back to his chambers, having delivered Morgana’s sleeping potion and ready to turn in for the night, that he runs into Arthur.

Merlin stiffens. “Sire,” he says, bowing his head quickly before trying to escape the situation.

“Merlin,” Arthur calls. Merlin stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn around to face him. “We should talk. Come with me to my chambers.” 

Reluctantly, Merlin turns around and follows Arthur. He can feel his heart beat wildly in his chest, and his hands are clammy. He takes a few steady breaths to calm himself, but to no avail. 

When they make it to Arthur’s chambers, Merlin looks at him expectantly to start the conversation, but instead the man has his eyes trained on the floor, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He has never seen Arthur look so uncomfortable before. In any other situation, this would’ve been hilarious, but now it only deepens Merlin’s anxiety. When he takes a closer look, he also realizes that there are dark circles under Arthur's eyes and that his face is strained, as if he's been thinking hard about something for awhile.

Arthur clears his throat and finally looks up. “How -- how are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” Merlin replies tersely. The awkward silence lingers, torturing him, until he says, “What did you want to talk about?” He bites his lip, knowing exactly what Arthur wants to discuss.

“Merlin,” Arthur begins, face somber, and Merlin feels his heart clench, “I’ve been thinking, and I realize I’ve been selfish. I’ve put you in harm’s way many times and I can’t do that to you anymore. I’m relieving you of your position.”

Merlin stands there, staring at Arthur, feeling like someone poured a bucket of ice cold water on him. “W-What?” he asks.

“What I’ve done to you is unfair. I can’t expect you to put yourself in danger for me--”

“Bullshit!” Merlin yells. Arthur stares at him with wide eyes and even Merlin is surprised at his own vehemence. “This has nothing to do with that. You just don’t want to be around me anymore because you know I’m an omega now.”

Arthur gapes at him. “That’s not true--”

“Yes it is!” Merlin interrupts again. “When you thought I was a beta, you had no issue with me coming along on trips and facing danger. Now that you know I’m an omega, you suddenly have an issue with it. It’s unfair, Arthur. My secondary gender doesn’t change who I am. I’m still the same person as before.”

“You’ve never been attacked like that before today,” Arthur barks, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t care about your gender, but others do. I will use all my power to _not_ have that happen again.”

“The only way they knew was because I had my suppressant with me, and next time I won’t carry it around. Lesson learned.” 

“And then what? You forget to take it so it's obvious that you're an omega and get...attacked again?” Arthur swallows and clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. “One incident is horrible enough as is. There will be no repeat.” 

“Arthur, I’m fine. What happened today wasn’t the worst. It’s not like I’ve never--” Merlin clamps his mouth shut, horrified, as he realizes his mistake. 

Arthur loses all color in his face. “This has happened to you before?” he asks, looking stricken.

Merlin stays silent, even though he knows it’s as big a confirmation as saying yes. He winces as the air around them turns tense, angry alpha pheromones exuding into the room. 

“Who?” demands Arthur.

“It wasn’t in Camelot,” Merlin says quickly before Arthur can storm out of the room and make plans to attack every alpha he sees. Merlin shudders as he thinks about his previous assaults; they were nowhere near as bad as what happened recently, but still unpleasant to think about. “It was back in Ealdor. Everyone knew I was an omega there. Only you and Gaius know about that here.”

For a few moments, Arthur is silent, his jaw clenched as he stares at Merlin. Then he says, “Give me his name. I will make him pay for what he has done.”

Merlin frowns. “No, Arthur. It doesn’t matter anymore and you can’t do anything about it. You shouldn’t care about me--”

“Well, I do!” he snaps.

Merlin blinks owlishly and stares at his prince in shock. When his brain begins to function once more and the words actually hit him, a warm feeling settles in his stomach, and his heart feels a touch lighter.

Arthur turns bright red. He starts to backtrack, fumbling with his words, “I mean, I don’t want to see these things happen to you. Just like any other person. I don’t want to think about any of my people in harm.”

Merlin cracks a smile. “Of course,” he says. “But the thing is, I don’t care what you think. I’m coming with you on every trip, regardless of what you say. I’ll still be in your room every morning to wake you up and get you breakfast and polish your armor and muck out the stables, even if you say I’m not your manservant. You can send me to the stocks until sundown and I’ll be back the next day. Because I still am, and always will be, your manservant until the day I die. So no, Arthur, you cannot stop me from being your servant no matter how bad I am or what my gender is or even if you dismiss me. Because I won’t listen.”

Arthur says nothing. He just stares at Merlin transfixed, almost as if he’s in awe of the man before him.

“You continue to amaze me, Merlin,” he finally says and then punches Merlin lightly on the arm, grinning, “with how _bad_ of a manservant you are. I asked you to mend my shirt yesterday and you still haven’t!” He gestures toward the shirt laying across his chair.

Merlin feels relief wash over him and he smiles again. “I’ll get right on that, you prat.” 

The two chuckle, basking in the warmth of their conversation and easily settling back into the familiarity of their banter. That is until Arthur frowns, a somber expression overtaking his joyful one.

“Why did you never tell me?” he asks, a flash of hurt shining in his eyes. 

Merlin swallows. “When I started taking suppressants, everyone assumed I was a beta here. Then Uther made me your manservant, and if I admitted I was an omega, he would’ve removed me in an instant. I didn’t want you to have to lie to your father about it for my sake. And...I liked the new way I was being treated too.”

“What do you mean by that?” 

Merlin pauses, thinking about how he should word this without upsetting Arthur again. “Life is hard, being an omega. People act strange around me when they know I’m an omega male. They think I’m a freak. When people think I’m a beta, they treat me like a normal person.”

Arthur’s nostrils flare. “You shouldn’t be treated like that for something you can’t help,” he says fiercely. Then he deflates, shifting uncomfortably. “There’s no...other reason you hid being an omega from me?”

“No,” says Merlin, his brow furrowing. “Why?”

“I know I say...not the nicest things about omegas sometimes,” Arthur says, rubbing a sheepish hand on the back of his neck, “but I want you to know that I would never attack or hurt you for being an omega.”

Confusedly, Merlin wonders why Arthur is saying this until the words, _Afraid the big, bad alpha would ravish you?_ ring in his ears. 

“Arthur, I know you would never hurt me. I never thought that you would,” he says, seeing the way Arthur sighs in relief. “That--that bandit was trying to mess with us.” 

Cold anger flashes in Arthur’s eyes. “That sick bastard,” he growls. “If only I could resurrect him...I would make him pay tenfold for what he did.”

Merlin shivers, hating the turn in conversation but also secretly enjoying Arthur’s protective words. “It’s all right. You killed him already.” He swallows. “He can’t hurt us anymore.”

“I know,” Arthur says quietly, staring at his hands as if he’s responsible for the day’s events. “I don’t want that to ever happen again. If someone says or does something to you, you come straight to me.” 

Merlin puts his hand over Arthur’s, squeezing it gently. “I will,” he says, even though he doesn’t actually know what he’d do if the situation ever arises again. But he does know that Arthur won’t let go of the topic until he hears his confirmation. 

Arthur moves his hand, but instead of pulling away like Merlin expects him to, he turns it around so their fingers intertwine. Merlin’s heart skips a beat.

They’re silent for awhile, just holding each other’s hand, before Arthur turns to him. He looks Merlin directly in the eye and says, “I know I joke about your cowardice, but...there are not many who would stick around after everything we’ve been through. And yet, you still do. Every time. You are truly one of the bravest men I know, Merlin.”

Something about those words hit Merlin hard. He thinks it might be because he’s felt emotionally raw all day, or maybe it’s the intensity and sincerity behind those words, or perhaps it’s the way Arthur’s looking at him like he’s the most important person in the world -- or most likely a mixture of all three. He feels the prickle of tears in his eyes, and it takes all of Merlin’s strength not to cry hysterically into Arthur’s shoulder.

He smiles shakily. “Never thought I’d hear you say ‘Merlin’ and ‘brave’ in the same sentence. Who are you and what have you done with the real Arthur?” Merlin chuckles, but it sounds more like a strangled sob to his ears. 

“Don’t inflate your ego too much because you’ll probably never hear it again,” says Arthur, his eyes light and playful. “And hey, I can be nice!”

Merlin discreetly tries to wipe at his eyes. “Once every decade, maybe,” he scoffs. 

Arthur glares at him with no real heat. “Keep that attitude and I’ll have you polish all the knights’ boots.”

“Clotpole.”

“I heard that.”

“That was the point,” quips Merlin.

Arthur bumps his shoulder, chuckling. They relax in silence for a beat before Arthur frowns, scenting the air around them. “What is that?” he asks, his eyes bright and hungry. “It smells...really good.”

Merlin frowns, not smelling anything and about to call Arthur delusional, before he realizes what it is. “My suppressant,” he gasps and moves away from Arthur, panicking. “I forgot to take it! Last time I took it was the other day. I need to go get it!”

“Merlin, it’s all right,” says Arthur calmly, yet his cheeks are flushed like he's embarrassed. He reaches forward like he’s about to touch Merlin on the shoulder before he looks at the other’s face and seems to decide otherwise. “You stay here, and I’ll go to Gaius and grab it for you. Don’t want to stink up the whole castle and have everyone know, now do we?”

Merlin takes a deep breath, relieved that Arthur won't use his gender against him. That he actually understands. “Yes, um, thank you.”

Arthur moves towards the door to his chambers, about to leave, before he suddenly turns around. “Oh, and Merlin?”

Merlin turns to look at him, confused. “Yes?” he asks.

“You better mend that shirt by tomorrow,” says Arthur, grabbing the tunic off the chair, bunching it into a ball, and throwing it at Merlin.

The shirt hits Merlin square in the face, and he might have whiplash now because _damn it, Arthur even throws shirts hard_. Despite that, he removes it, watches as Arthur exits through the door laughing like the prat he is, and finds he can’t help but smile.


End file.
